


The Lonely Wooden Boy

by flammablehat



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pinocchio Fusion, Fairy Tale Elements, M/M, Puppets, Pygmalion, Team Gluttony, Transformation, velveteen rabbit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 20:11:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2241879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flammablehat/pseuds/flammablehat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Real isn't how you are made. It's a thing that happens to you. Sometimes it hurts, but when you are Real you don't mind being hurt. It doesn't happen all at once. You become. Once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand. Once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always.”  ― Margery Williams, <i>The Velveteen Rabbit</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lonely Wooden Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for challenge 3, round 4 of the summerpornathon. This entry took first place in its group, which is rare enough for me to be noteworthy! Beta provided by the lovely Kaizoku.

There once lived a man named Arthur with very skillful hands, and with them he crafted the most wondrous toys. He lived alone in a tiny cottage in a small village, near the town square where he performed puppet shows. Audiences marveled at the liveliness of his creations.

Of all of his many figures, none were more wondrous or lively than George. 

“George,” Arthur would often say, “You are an excellent puppet, but not the most stimulating company.” And he would smile, and George would agree this was very funny, even if he did not understand why.

+++

One evening, after a rousing performance honouring his sister’s engagement, Arthur made his usual compliment to George. He smiled, but then he looked down at his hands. “Perhaps I should make you a friend,” he said.

George saw nothing strange in this. A good puppet required only an audience, but there was no reason a friend couldn’t be both.

+++

George eyeballed his friend. He was much too large for strings, his face unpainted and unpolished. Arthur named him Merlin, blowing wood shavings from the whorl of one oversized ear.

“Hello,” Merlin said. 

“Hello,” George replied.

“Pardon me for asking,” Merlin said, “but are you a real boy?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” George said. 

“Arthur said he should like me to be a real boy, but I don’t know how one becomes real.”

George understood wanting to be satisfactory. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I could teach you to be a puppet? It is the purpose for which I was made,” he added proudly.

“Oh,” said Merlin, unperturbed. “No thanks. I’ll just keep looking for a way.”

Well. Merlin was hardly puppet material anyway.

+++

Merlin was grotesque with reality. Arthur had even fashioned for him human genitalia, hooked between the long, pale birch of his legs.

George didn’t say anything. There was no call to be impolite. 

“I spoke to the old mannequin,” Merlin confided. “She said love is the only way to become real. Isn’t it exciting? Now I simply have to find some!” 

George felt like a splinter had broken off inside his chest. “You should focus on what you were created for,” he said. “There is no greater satisfaction than a job well-done, or a purpose well-fulfilled.” 

Merlin’s indulgent smile left George feeling desperate and bereft. He didn’t _understand_.

+++

“Do you think this is it?” Merlin called from the bed. “Is this love?”

Arthur had unhooked the first phallus and replaced it with another — this one erect, polished to a dark, cherry glow. Merlin made intrigued noises as Arthur greased the shaft with shaking fingers, his face aflame. 

“I can almost feel it!” Merlin said as Arthur sank onto him. George wished he could look away. Arthur moved gingerly, cautious and flinching. 

Slowly, his fingers unclenched from his bedsheets. Slowly, he began to rock over Merlin. His mouth fell open; his eyes widened. Just visible between them, his human phallus began to jump and twitch with his movement, as if controlled by its own string. George ached hearing Arthur’s urgent panting, his short, whining exhales. The splinter of unease within him became a stake when Arthur suddenly stilled, eyes shut tight and mouth open wide, spilling thick white threads onto Merlin’s middle. 

“Oh,” Merlin said when Arthur stumbled off of him. He hiccupped a soft sound when Arthur unhooked his erect phallus and threw it into the fire, but said no more.

+++

Arthur continued to climb on top of Merlin, as if he could not help himself, and each time discarded his own work afterwards, face buried in his hands.

Merlin’s wood began to soften, deepening in color with patina. Sometimes, when Arthur rode him desperately, Merlin’s long fingers would twitch. 

George would not speak to him anymore. He’d begun to collect dust on his shelf.

+++

George did not think he could feel more pale, more tinder dry, until the day Arthur fell to his knees before Merlin. He was drunk, wet-eyed and clumsy, unsurprised when Merlin’s wooden palm moved haltingly to cup his cheek.

With difficulty, Merlin bent, joints creaking as he tipped his mouth to Arthur’s. 

George watched the color spread, blood-flush replacing wood grain as Merlin’s lips softened and opened against Arthur’s, gasping. He pushed Arthur to the floor with living strength while Arthur’s hands gripped the softness of his rump, his belly, catching his laughing face and thumbing his ears. Ecstatic. 

George watched, not finding their display funny at all, because he didn’t understand.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] The Lonely Wooden Boy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2385698) by [rowanbrandybuck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowanbrandybuck/pseuds/rowanbrandybuck)




End file.
